Tag Archives: Misty

Creeping Upstairs

Poem from Misty, 20 January, 1979.

I suddenly hear someone creeping upstairs.
If I hadn’t read ‘Misty’ I wouldn’t be scared,
I throw down the comic on the bed
As under the blankets I hide my head.
Under there I go all numb.
Is it, could it be, only my Mum?
Yes it is, of that I’m sure
As she tiptoes softly through the door.
‘Rachel,’ she whispers, ‘Are you still awake?’
I lie quite still, no notice I take.
‘No, you’re not,’ I hear her say.
Thank goodness, at last she’s gone away.
I close my eyes and count to fifty
To find out when I open them …

Rachel Flemming, Cockermouth, Cumbria

Misty Verse

Poem from spooky girls comic Misty, 5 August, 1978.


Misty of the eyes of blue –
Or are they really grey?
Or brown, or green, or yellow bright?
I really could not say.

Why come with the mist?
Why avoid the sun?
Why the “misty-rious” journeyings
Which are puzzling everyone?

Why so elusive?
What is your game?
What purpose can you hope to achieve
By living up to your name?

Misty of the eyes of blue,
Or brown, green, yellow or grey
Tell us your story, tell it true,
Sometime soon, some day.

Tahira Fozia – Bradford 3


Poem from Misty, number 47, 23 December, 1978.

As the mists clear
A beautiful face will appear
With long hair like pale moonshine
Hanging to her shoulders soft and fine.
Her eyes are like sapphires,
Lips like burning fires.
She’s not a day over nineteen
Yet the years she’s lived are umpteen
Slowly now she fades away
But we shall meet another day.
Now she’s no more than the faintest light.
Mysterious Misty – goodnight.

Miranda Airey
Newcastle Upon Tyne

Star Letter

Poem from Misty, the spooky girls comic, 9 September, 1978.

As I lie in my bed not quite asleep
I suddenly hear the floor boards creak
So out of my bed I silently creep
To kneel by the keyhole and take a good peek.

Someone is roaming out in the hall.
Who is it? Who is it?
I don’t know at all
Is it a midget or six feet tall?

It sounds rather friendly
But it gives me a scare
Yet I feel very frightened
As up goes my hair.

And now the thing opens my door.
A spook? I’m still not very sure.
The light’s switched on, thank Heavens it’s Dad.
Phew, what a relief and I’m mistily glad.

Sue Boyd
Ashurst, Hants


Poem from Misty, 29 December, 1979.


I am a rodent of the
most detested kind,
Never loved, only loathed,
you’ll always find.
Everywhere I carry
death and disease
And I’m not here to please.
You’ll find me in the sewers
And hanging round the brewers
Swimming in the water
And anywhere I hadn’t oughta.
I have lived,
I have survived,
Aren’t I a RAT?

Jane Grant

Misty Sleeps

Misty, the spooky comic for girls that sparked goth, often had a poem from a reader. This is from 7 July, 1979.

Misty Sleeps

Dear Misty, do you sleep at night
With slime-muck on your bed?
With bats flying above you
And slugs uppn your head.
With spiders crawling up your arms
And ear-wigs up your legs.
With something slithering down your neck
And termites on your teeth.
With gnats swarming on your hands
And crawling underneath.
It must be awful lying there
With something creeping in your hair,
But there’s no other place for you,
Though I wouldn’t like to sleep there, too.

Tanya Rhodes
Beckenham, Kent

I do assure you, Tanya, the Cavern of Dreams
is rather more comfortable than you imagine –